


A Movie Night To Remember: Crossover Edition

by ForbiddenArcanum



Category: Original Work
Genre: Braindrain, Furry, Himbo, Jock - Freeform, M/M, Muscle Growth, Transformation, himbofication, hyper, hyper cock, jockification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 20:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17814662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenArcanum/pseuds/ForbiddenArcanum
Summary: 3 college boys decide to try and pull a fast one on the chemistry frat at the biggest costume party of the year–with some unexpected (but statistically significant!) results.





	A Movie Night To Remember: Crossover Edition

It was the kind of party where if you could arrive in a pumpkin-shaped carriage, you would. Some of the partygoers tried their best: orange cars and pumpkin-decorated motorcycles lined the streets outside of the biggest party of the year.

Aaron, Jackson, and Hunter were just a few of the attendees of the annual Halloween party—this time, it was graciously hosted by the ΧΕΜ fraternity with a theme of “Disney”. The setup was simple: boys come to the frat house in costume, and the girls do the same at the corresponding sorority. At midnight, everyone moved en masse to 8th street, where every house had kegs and candy galore, and the party went until dawn.

“This is gonna be so fuckin’ siiiick!” Hunter was almost shivering with excitement, and the two beers he had before coming weren’t helping him. The fox tail of his Robin Hood costume swung wildly as he bounced around, his lithe body stumbling and twirling through the grass. If Jackson didn’t know better, he would say Hunter’s nose was twitching like a fox sniffing out its prey.

“Dude, this isn’t even the real party. It’s just the pre-game.” Jackson, the oldest of the group, sighed and shook his head at his friend’s inexperience. He adjusted his toga, made clumsily out of a bedsheet, his ginger hair brushed to the side and hanging over one eye. His skinny build didn’t exactly fit the part of Hercules, but wasn’t the entire premise of the movie “zero to hero”? At least, that’s what he got from it, wide-eyed and feeling strangely warm every time the movie came on.

“Okay, but, and hear me out here…” Both Jackson and Hunter sighed. Aaron was the youngest of them, and a weasel if anything. His black hair sat under a small red cap, his bare chest exposed to the world and the chilly Autumn wind. His skinny body perfectly fit the part of Aladdin, a thieving street rat. He’d even shown off his flexibility for the other two before—to very mixed responses. (“Dude, gross!” “Okay, now go FURTHER.”)

“Okay, what’s your plan?” Jackson shook his head.

“We get in there, and there’s always this punch bowl that takes forever to make. We come in, say we volunteer to do it. The whole thing is basically jungle juice, so we’re alone in a kitchen with massive amounts of alcohol, mixers, and fruit.”

“And…?”

“You know these parties—people donate WAY too much booze all the time! So there’s gonna be tons left over. We can drink as much as we want, and then maybe even smoke a joint and head off to the next part of the party once we’re done.” Hunter shrugged, scratching the back of his head.

“I dunno,” said Hunter. “What if we get caught?”

“Eh, fuck it.” Jackson shrugged. “It’s my last year here, I might as well. Let’s do it.” He marched forward with Aaron and Hunter in tow, leading them both into the frat house. It was packed beyond belief, and the party had hardly even started. Jackson walked into the kitchen, which was much smaller than it should’ve been. It hardly even constituted a kitchen—sure, it had a fridge and a stove, but it was so incredibly small, especially now that there were six people inside of it.

“Hey, bro, you can’t be in here,” one of the frat house residents said, the other two frat brothers glaring at the trio.

“Hey, take it easy.” Jackson put his hands up. “We volunteered to make the jungle juice tonight, so they told us to come in here and let you guys go party.” The frat bros were gone in a flash.. Apparently the punch-making was a very unfavorable job.

“Given how easy they left, I’m beginning to think this’ll be harder than it looks.” Jackson muttered.

“Naw, it can’t be that hard. Just throw a bunch of fruit and fruit juice in, and fill the rest with uh…” Aaron picked up a brown bottle. Oddly enough, it didn’t have a label on it. “This stuff, I guess?” He picked up another. No label. Another. No label.

“You’d think for chem majors these guys would learn to label their stuff. Isn’t that like, lab safety 101?” Jackson picked up a few bottles himself, peering into the bottles. They were all corked, which was unconventional for chemicals—usually they had screw-on caps, but these looked more like a witch’s brew than anything.

“Woah! Dude, look!” Aaron had uncorked one of them, letting loose a strange purple gas that seemed to sparkle in the air. Not only did the bottles look witchy, but the contents also appeared to be witchy as well! Hunter quickly started fanning all of the smoke out of his face.

“D-Dude! Cap that, we have no idea what that—is…” In Hunter’s panic, he had accidentally taken a huge whiff of the cloud, and he stumbled slightly, shaking his head and trying to keep his balance.

“Woah, you okay?” Jackson stepped forwards, leaning over to check on him—but his leaning down pulled some of the cloud towards him, and before he knew it, he was dizzy as well. Needless to say, Aaron was also struck, being right next to the bottle.

When the three of them came to, about five minutes had passed… and Aaron couldn’t stop smiling.

“What… happened?” Jackson sat up, the room now clear of the smoke. He looked over at Hunter who had also just woken up, and then Aaron, who was giving off a very disconcerting grin. “…Is there something on my face?”

“Whaaa? Nah, dude, like… you just, like…” He laughed—a deep, out-of-it laugh. Usually he sounded more like a masculine witch, cackling or snickering about his weaseling deeds. “I dunno, dude! Like, it’s just funny.” Hunter laughed too—full-on laughter, just sitting there and losing it. Jackson looked at them both with concern, finding the corners of his own mouth twitching as he stifled a giggle. Hunter was shyer than the rest—he usually covered his mouth and acted a bit more feminine around them, but he was there, legs spread on the floor, laughing like an empty-minded frat bro.

Empty-minded… frat… bro…  
Jackson couldn’t get the words out of his head, but he slowly got to his feet, feeling a bit woozy, but… in a good way. He helped the other two up, and slowly gathered them around the punch bowl.

“Okay, guys. Guys, seriously. Okay, guys.” Jackson kept trying to start the sentence, but laughed in the middle of it, or forgot what he was going to say. Finally, he found the recipe written down under a bottle of booze. He held it up to his face, squinting. “We need, uh.” The letters rearranged themselves. He couldn’t read anything–  
Empty-minded.

He could’ve sworn he saw that phrase on the paper, but… wait, what even was this? Some kind of… writing? He laughed again, which sent Hunter and Aaron into another tizzy.

“Duuude, like, who even NEEDS that?” Aaron grabbed the paper, balled it up, and threw it away, missing the trash can completely. “We just gotta pour a bunch of everything in! It’s like, jungle juice, right?”

“Exaaactly.” Hunter chimed in, much more confident than normal. Or was he always this up for shenanigans? Jackson’s head felt too cloudy to remember. He didn’t care. He grabbed a bottle and uncorked it, pouring it right into the huge crystal bowl. More purple smoke rose out of it, each boy breathing it in like it was air. They didn’t feel dizzy from it, but their eyes widened slightly, taking in the strangely sweet scent. It smelled like cotton candy, and looked like melted lavender pastels. Jackson slowly dipped his finger in before lifting it out to examine it.

Eat it.

“Okay.” Jackson said, to nobody in particular, and licked his finger right off. He pushed it all the way to the back of his throat, then slowly drew it out, leaving it wet and dripping with his saliva. Hunter and Aaron let out a small gasp as they stared on in amazement.

“What?” Jackson looked at them, and they both started laughing again—and Jackson couldn’t help it. He doubled over, too, laughing his ass off and not knowing why. It was just so funny! Everything was so funny and, like, weird! Like, why were they even, like, doing this?

“Like, guys, like, we gotta, like, make this stuff! C’mooon!” His voice was a bit higher pitched, and more valley-girl than before. The other two stopped laughing long enough to continue pouring in more bottles, different colors of smoke rising from the bowl as they carelessly chose the different brews. Eventually, the bowl turned a bright red… which seemed correct enough to be presented as punch.

“Well, we gotta like, taste-test, right?” Jackson nudged the two beside him, and then pulled up a chair and leaned back. “Gimme.”

“Like, why do you get to be the one getting fed?”

“I’m, like, Hercules? Like, the hero? You’re like, a cute fox, and he’s, like, a prince at best. I’m a figure of, like, legend.” Jackson confidently stated, opening his mouth expectantly.

“Like, I guess.” Hunter shrugged, and slowly brought the ladle to Jackson’s lips, who drank from it without moving at all. He finished it quickly.

“More.”

“Wasn’t that enough—”

“I said more, not like, what do you think?” Jackson rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Hunter did it again… and again… and squinted a bit. Jackson looked… different.

Jackson couldn’t describe the feeling with words. He didn’t know enough at this point. His mind was so empty, his attitude so carefree, his body so warm… he felt himself getting lifted off the chair slightly, something under him pushing him upwards. His ass was expanding and becoming incredibly juicy, pushing him upwards and bouncing him. He giggled, his laugh becoming higher-pitched, and his body changing right in front of them.

His toga slowly became much too small in several places. He felt his biceps expanding, his arms getting pushed away from his chest the same way his thighs were slowly repelling each other. Every heartbeat sent another surge through Jackson, every surge made him grow a little more. His skinny twink neck thickened out a bit, and his waist trimmed even further than it was already! But his upper body was the real issue. Every surge made his pecs twitch, and they would twitch larger… and larger. They didn’t show any signs of slowing down, not like his feet or his calves did. No, they kept going. Leaning back in the chair as he was, his pecs swelled until he couldn’t see past them. When he moved to sit up and watch them grow, the chair gave out under him, crashing and splintering to bits under his new muscle mass. He slowly got to his feet, giving his friends a half-lidded stare as they looked on in dumbfounded awe. His toga rode up as his pec shelf pushed out more and more, slowly revealing another growing issue: his cock.

It throbbed bigger and bigger, the uncut cock pushing more and more against the loose fabric of the toga, and slowly pushing out right in front of Aaron and Hunter’s faces. It was twice as thick as a two-liter bottle, and over two feet long, His balls throbbed and sloshed as they filled and expanded, not at all hidden by the slutty toga anymore.

“D-Dude…” Hunter looked at Jackson, who gave back an empty, half-lidded stare with a permanent, dumb smile. Hunter’s tights were incredibly uncomfortable at that moment, and it didn’t help when Jackson suddenly let out another moan.

Aaron, who moved behind Jackson to get out of the way of his growing cock, was suddenly pushed against the wall by the redhead’s rapidly expanding ass. It jiggled and bounced around his form, forcing Aaron’s face right against his hole, and causing Jackson to moan and reach down to stroke his enormous length.

Hunter stood there, wide-eyed with an incredibly obvious boner, as Jackson’s changes slowly stopped. He looked down, and cringed a bit.

“F-Fuck, what am I… what am I doing?” Jackson mumbled, his voice slowly coming back to normal. “Why is Aaron… mnnn, fuck, why is he doing that? I’m huge, what’s… what’s going on?” He frantically looked for a way to cover himself, attempting to grab a dishtowel—which didn’t even begin to cover anything. His face turned beet red. “I can’t… be seen like this! I can’t, if someone ends up—”

As if on cue, the door opened, and a very drunk jock stumbled in, seeing Jackson immediately.

“Duuuude, party foul!” He was drunk enough that he didn’t realize just how big Jackson was, but not enough to ignore that Jackson was naked. “Fuckin’ freak! Put that shit away, nobody wants to see that shit, bro!” He turned around, walking out of the kitchen and slamming the door. Jackson’s body trembled with embarrassment, only making it grow more.

“I-I can’t… I can’t be seen like this, I gotta go home, I gotta… I gotta get out of here, b-but I’ll never fit in my car, and I… I… I don’t…” His panicked speech started to slow down as his hair began to move. “I don’t… wanna think about it.” Slowly, it moves up into a curly quiff. “I don’t… wanna think.” He reaches his huge hands up to play with his pecs, his grin turning empty and dumb, his eyes gazing longingly at himself and his cock. “No thinking, like… just partying, like, right?” He laughs, back to the high pitched voice. He pinches his own nipples, slamming his ass back onto Aaron’s face and moaning as he shoots some sort of… milk from his pecs, right onto Hunter.

Hunter can’t hold back anymore. He was already feeling confused and wobbly, but the growing and the milk sent him over the edge. He got on his knees, immediately servicing Jackson’s cock, stuffing as much of it into his mouth as he could. Jackson wasn’t one to hold back—not like this at least—and large spurts of sticky white cum splattered all over Hunter, and Hunter felt the same odd warmness as Jackson did.

Everywhere the cum hit, small patches of fur started sprouting. Sleek, short, and orange and white. It spread over his body, his costume staying intact as the fur got rid of his tights, tearing them to shreds, and… made the tail he had on somehow feel more real. Every gulp sped it up, every blast from Jackson causing the fur to spread faster. Hunter could hardly believe his eyes as his hands sprouted a short layer of orange fur while he was jacking off Jackson’s enormous length. But he didn’t care. He just wanted this. An enormous cock in his mouth, his best friend turning into a muscled idiot… he would’ve felt jealous, but his mind was draining with every lick of Jackson’s cum.

Before he knew it, his tunic was tearing into a v-neck, his pecs expanding and growing past his face, the white-furred muscles pushing his arms aside. His pecs flexed and relaxed almost on their own, pushing Jackson’s shaft up and down between the massive, meaty pillows. Every thrust from Jackson was a wave of pleasure to Hunter, making his now enormous nipples shoot out the same milk he had been lusting after before. Hunter leaned back, enjoying the feeling as he grew larger and larger, his legs becoming pillars of muscle and his arms pumping up. He felt his face push out, his jaw creaking as it moved more and more into a fox-like shape. The yellow feather hat on his head slowly morphed into a backwards yellow snapback, and clung tightly around his new, fluffy fox ears. Hunter’s last coherent thought was just how big his cock was getting—bright red and almost as big as Jackson’s. He admired it for a moment—right before cumming all over Jackson’s enormous chest, causing white spooge to drip down both of their forms, and Jackson’s to retaliate with his own explosion, the both of them laughing and giggling dumbly as they fucked and licked and came all over the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Aaron’s face was buried into Jackson’s ass. He had hated it at first—he was supposed to be partying, not trapped between these enormous, bubble butt cheeks. But eventually he had to try it. He gave Jackson a small lick, which caused the himbo giant to moan like Aaron had never heard. He couldn’t resist it. That sound was like… like candy to him. He loved the way Jackson sounded. So big, so dumb, so powerful, so… empty. He licked and licked and even massaged it with his hands, his mind slowly numbing to any thoughts except for pleasuring Jackson more. It wasn’t until Jackson and Hunter were done with each other that Jackson let him out of his bubble butt prison—after all, Jackson’s memory wasn’t so great anymore. He hardly remembered there was anyone back there!

“Oh my goood, is that Aaron? Like, I totally forgot you were back there, bro!”  
“Yeah, bro, like, fuck, bro! And lookit how fuckin’ tiny he is…”

Aaron looked up in amazement. Jackson was a seven foot tall muscle god, and Hunter was a 6’6” fox with enormous pecs. He stumbled back slightly from looking so far up, hearts in his eyes.

“H-Holy shit… you guys, like, look amazing.”

“Like, really, bro? Heh, like, I try.” Jackson laughed, Hunter following afterwards—and of course, Aaron did as well. It was all so funny! It was even funnier when they started poking him with their huge cocks, or coating him in their sticky himbo cum leftover from their playtime, or even when they licked his body all over!

He couldn’t stop laughing as his skin tanned, his spine lengthening as he began to join their ranks. He chuckled as his ass began to push him off the ground, and giggled as his cock surged upwards right into his waiting, open mouth. His hair moved into a quiff like Jackson’s, his face becoming taller and more slender. His build was skinnier than the other two, but as he grew, his pecs inflated like pillows, disproportionate to the rest of him, just like the others. His costume slowly morphed as he got bigger and bigger, his vest turning into a sleeveless purple hoodie, and his pants turning into white basketball shorts.

“Guys, uhn, bros… fuck, like, fuck, bro!” Aaron could hardly make out a coherent sentence.

“Duuude, like, he’s huge too, bro! Like, fuck, haaha!” Jackson chimed in, Hunter howling and humping with approval.

“Uhn, I’m gonna, like, blow, bros! Bros, it’s gonna blow!” Aaron moans as his cock springs out of his shorts, shooting out a massive jet of cum, splattering the himbos and the ceiling with sticky white fluids… And they laughed—they roared with empty, dumb laughter. Nothing went through their heads, only how good that just felt and how good it was to be dumb and bros and empty-headed.

But what’s a himbo without a party?

The three of them stood up, massaged each other for just a little while, and then stepped into the party room with the punch bowl.

“Holy shiiiit! They’re huge!”

“Dude, what the fuck! Are those costumes? They’ve gotta be costumes!”  
“Fuckin’ gross, bros!”

The himbos paid it no mind, too thick to even understand they were doing something wrong. As Aaron set the punch bowl down, Jackson and Hunter got to flexing for the crowd, wanting nothing more than to show off—and one other thing.

The punch bowl was filled with something, alright—something thick and white, no alcohol necessary. As a boy approached the table to grab some (or at the very least find out what it was), the himbos took their chance. Jackson grabbed him and put him right in front of the three of them. He was slender, blonde, and wearing a pair of lion ears and a lion tail. He was going for Simba—but they were nowhere NEAR as authentic as their own costumes!

“H-Hey, let me go! Get your hands off of me!”

“Bro, just relax, it ain’t gonna hurt.” Aaron chuckled with the rest of them as he took the ladle from the bowl and splashed it onto the open-mouthed and complaining face of the simba cosplayer. As soon as it hit his tongue, he knew something was wrong.

“W-Wait, stop, what was that! Oh my god, let me go! Let me go!” He struggled and thrashed, slowly slowing down. “Please, no, I can’t… Uhng, I can’t fuckin’… remember… bro… I can’t… bro!” He shakes his head. “Why do I keep saying that, bro? Fuck, again! Fuck! Bro!” He clenched his teeth, his body feeling warm, the heat building in his chest. “Dude, bro, no! I don’t—“ Riiiip! His yellow shirt gave way to a pair of pecs with yellow fur on them. “No, fuck! No, this can’t be happening, bro!” He struggled more, but Jackson’s incredibly buff arms held him down as Hunter and Aaron just fed him more and more “punch”.

“Urgh, I—ghhhk—No, this… bro, this can’t be happening, bro! I’m not a fuckin’ lion, bro!” He looked down, his pecs expanding way past his face, the floor slowly getting further away from him. “I can’t… I’m… tall?” He slowly extended his body up to Jackson’s height, his body widening out. His thighs thickened, his biceps swelled, and his hands became enormous, human-like claws. His feet grew to a larger size—but what changed most was his ass. It pushed back against Jackson’s cock, the growing butt jiggling and jacking Jackson off, which just spilled more cum onto the cosplayer than before, speeding up the changes.

The yellow fur slowly covered his entire body, then caused his dick to throb and expand, becoming as red as Hunter’s and slowly pulsing up to a constantly hard state. His eyes looked down in fear and excitement as the yellow crawled up his neck.

“N-No, dude, no! Bro, I can’t… I can’t do it!” He looks out at the crowd that was jeering and booing this horrifying, fetishistic performance. “H-Help me! Someone help me, bro!” More boos, more jeers. They thought it was some sort of show. “Please, bro! Anyone! Literally any—” But his time was up. He felt his face push forward, his twinky look distorting as his face was molded into the shape of a lion’s snout. His pupils were turned to slits, and he felt his hair grow out slightly before moving into a lazy, messy quiff. Bright red, just like Simba’s.

Something inside of him clicked—and the other himbos could tell as they all started marching towards the crowds together, cocks bouncing between their legs, nothing bouncing between their ears.

“C’mon, bros!” Simba called out. “Who wants to get empty?”


End file.
